


Professor Byleth, Drunk

by vee_andfictionalworlds



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunkenness, F/F, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Teaching, but we can hope, but we love him, probably not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vee_andfictionalworlds/pseuds/vee_andfictionalworlds
Summary: Claude accidentally gets his professor drunk in an attempt to test out one of his concoctions. The professor has a lesson to teach.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, they’re there if you squint
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Professor Byleth, Drunk

“Hey, teach! Can I have your assistance for a second?”

Byleth swivelled their head to look at Claude, tilting their head in question. They knew by now to not give in to one of his schemes until they fully knew what it involved. 

“I’ve got this new concoction to try,” Byleth frowned at the word ‘concoction’, but Claude hastily continued, “it’s not poison this time, don’t worry! It’ll just knock ya out for an hour at most. I’d do it on myself, but I wouldn’t exactly be able to record the results asleep, would I?”

The professor silently debated their options for a second. They’d been told in the last staff meeting that it was always good to encourage their students (though they thought they’d been doing a decent job already) to do things they enjoyed. Claude enjoyed making concoctions. Byleth had an hour to spare before their next seminar. It would be a long one- a joint lesson between the Black Eagles and the Golden Deer. No other teacher would take it, and they had, regrettably, volunteered. A nap beforehand may to them well. They nodded.

“Okay, Claude. You may test it on me. Just know that if it lasts too long, I will make it fit that you never hear the end of it from Seteth.”

This threat only caused Claude to grin charmingly, happy to have a test subject regardless. He gestured a hand, directing Byleth to his room where the mixture sat on his bedside desk. The student unveiled it to his professor as if it was a trophy. His professor eyed it suspiciously. It certainly didn’t look the most… appetising of things.

Still, they had made a promise.

Promptly, they sat down on Claude’s bedside and downed the swirling liquid as is it were a shot of vodka. 

Claude’s eyes widened, “Woah there, teach, you good?”

Byleth’s head spun; they tried to stand up, before toppling down back onto the bed weakly.

“I-I’m fine. My goddess, Claude, what’s in this thing and when on Fodlan will I fall asleep?”

“If I’m honest, it was supposed to be instantaneous,” a hesitation, “no worries- trial and error is all part of experimentation. Just give it a minute, I’m sure you’ll be asleep like a baby. Just try not to cry like one,” he winked cheekily.

“Y’know, Jeralt (that’s my dad, if you weren’t aware. At least… I think it is) he told me t-that I never cried! Even as a baby! Weird, huh?”

In a most unusual instance, Claude stammered. His teacher was really not one for small talk. And yeah, that whole crying thing was weird. He made a mental note to check into it at the library. Oh goddess, Byleth had started blabbering again. Something about the goddess being inside their head. It was almost like they were drunk. Oh dear, he concluded, like they were drunk.

The concoction he had brewed was meant to dull the senses. It was meant to make a victim fall unconscious where they stood. However, what it had done, Claude realised, was made his professor very drunk. In his room. Right now. Or, at least, something that mimicked the drunkenness you’d get from a particularly raucous night in the village. 

“Okay, teach. I’ve got some, uh, news for you. You might not like it though.” Byleth smiled with a hand propping up their chin, waiting excitedly for the news, “I may have accidentally made you drunk. The mixture sure was supposed to act as a depressant, just… not in this regard.” He winced, mentally steeling himself for a response. Yet, whatever he had steeled himself for did not reduce the surprise he felt when his professor started laughing.

“That… oh saints- that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard this past moon! I’m-“ hiccup. “I’m drunk! I’ve never even been properly drunk before! Ohhh, wait ‘till Seteth hears that you got me drunk!”

Claude was relieved until that last sentence, at which he hastily steadied his teacher, “Haha, very funny. Maybe it would be best, though, if you refrained from going to Seteth now. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve from seeing you drunk during class hours.” He silently applauded himself for the fast recovery. Smooth.

A humorously melodramatic gasp came at once, “Shit, you’re right!” Claude did a double-take at his professor’s choice of language. They continued, unaware, in a sudden hush voice, “We have to keep this a secret!” they stage-whispered. Not at all conspicuously. The young man got up to close the door, sighing defeatedly. Only a couple of hour of this, he hoped.

~~

About fifty minutes of both amusement and disaster later, and Byleth looked up at Claude’s clock on the far end wall. They gasped, somehow even louder than before, exclaiming loudly,

“I have a fucking class to teach in ten minutes!”

Right there and then, Claude nearly sweared himself. In all the commotion, he had completely forgotten about the dual lesson between two of the possibly most chaotic groups in all of Garreg Mach Monastery. Before he even had the ability to stop Byleth, they were already opening his bedroom door. In an uncharacteristic panic he tried to drag his teacher back with no avail. Goddess, were they stronger than they looked. 

The last thing he could do whilst rushing behind the professor was yell, “Try to act sober, please!”

Byleth nodded, instilling at least some faith in their student.

~~

The Golden Dear head of house sat in the classroom, surrounded by his classmates. He questioned how his teacher was running late when, last thing he’d known, they were running ahead of him and eager to get to lesson. Murmurs started arising in impatience; the students began to question why their most punctual teacher was not there on the dot of 2pm. Just before Bernadetta was about to flee from the room, and as Caspar announced an eating contest against Raphael, Professor Byleth burst through doors.

“Apologies for the lateness, Deers and Eagles, but I had to go fetch some coffee.”

Caspar interrupted, ignoring his teacher’s odd syntax, “Hah! I didn’t know you drank coffee, Professor.”

“You’re right, Caspar, I don’t!” They responded, in a rather chipper way. Some of the students chuckled- partially in confusion. Linhardt awoke from the desk, groaning slightly at the disturbance. Usually, it was so easy to sleep in Professor Byleth’s lesson. He watched in interest as his teacher gulped down the remnants of the black liquid, grimacing at the bitter taste and sticking their tongue out in an animated fashion. He then observed, with further interest, the incredulous look on Claude’s face. Shrugging, the boy placed his head back down on the desk- intending to fall back to sleep in all the commotion.

“Okay, class, settle down. Today’s lesson is about… tactics.” They waited as the class simmered down: it was rather impressive how the professor could so easily provoke silence. Even with a class like this one and even in their current state. They continued, “I’m gonna tell you something. I don’t really know very much about tactics. Jeralt (that’s my dad) did the tactical side of stuff. Back as a mercenary. Sure, sometimes I was there, but I truly didn’t know what I was doing whilst working here to begin with,

“I usually just put all of the people with axes and stuff at the front, and then I put the people with bows behind them. It seems to works out.”

The class was in shock. A few seconds were taken for what had just been said to sink in. A few students, knowing their professor’s odd sense of humour, laughed. When there was not even a smirk on Byleth’s face to indicate a joke, they awkwardly resumed their silence. Edelgard, who was sat next to Dorothea as they shared a confused look, was the first to speak up.

“My teacher, forgive me for being so blunt, but…” She paused, trying to think of a good way to phrase it to her superior, “You do not seem like yourself today. Are you ill?” The class waited hungrily for a response. Claude shuffled his feet under his desk.

“No, Edelgard, I am not ill. Just- oh, never mind. Everything is fine and I am fine.” They barely stopped themselves from confessing their state of drunkenness to the students. The perpetrator of this drunken state sat at the back of the class, nearly having a heart attack at the close call. He groaned to himself at Dorothea’s smirk. She was scheming. When would his suffering end?

“Come on, professor, you can tell us! We promise to keep your secret safe.” Dorothea spoke sweetly, in a way that was borderline seductive. Edelgard slapped her on the forearm for it. 

At the promise of a well-kept secret, Byleth’s usually rock-hard reserve crumbled.

“Oh, if you insist. Someone got me drunk. But shh! Don’t tell my dad. I think he’d possibly murder me and even the divine pulse couldn’t prevent that shit.”

At these words, half the class burst into hysterics. Groups of them questioned who it may be, whittling it down to a list of suspects. So far, the list of subjects went: Manuela, Jeralt, Shamir, and, for some odd reason, The Gatekeeper (of whom no one knew his real name). Claude was relieved to see that he had not been seriously considered. Poor Bernadetta had created a fortress of books to hide under. Petra muttered something about not having understanding. Edelgard was rubbing her temples, Hubert was glaring daggers, Dorothea was attempting to sooth Edelgard’s obvious distress, and the likes of Lorenz and Ferdinand had given up altogether. Linhardt woke up in annoyance. No one in the officer’s academy could seem to shut up, to his chagrin.

Despite Linhardt’s recent awakening, he did not struggle to gather the situation. Remembering his previous observations, he turned around to look at Claude. Claude, who looked somewhere between bursting into laughter and having a mental breakdown. Maybe both. If Linhardt was a more sympathetic person, he would have spared the poor guy. Linhardt, however, wanted a nap.

“Has no one besides me gathered that this is all Claude’s fault?” He grumbled loudly, before laying his head back down on the desk, not even interested in the reaction.

About twenty heads swivelled in Claude’s direction. The boy in question raised his hands in what he hoped looked like a mock surrender.

“Hey guys! Calm down. Why on all of Fodlan would I get teach drunk?” He gestured over to the professor, who had their thumb and forefinger pinched on the bridge of their nose and was clearly starting to develop a headache. This probably meant the drunkenness was wearing off and Professor Byleth was beginning to feel hangover effects. He tried hard to fight off his classmates’ suspicions for several more minutes until…

“Claude Von Reigan! What in the name of Sothis did you do to me?” Uh-oh. Hangover stage. Claude tried to make an escape out the classroom doors. Edelgard was already on it, standing in front of them with her axe wielded. It would be a miracle to get out of there alive if he were even to try. He would have to make a ‘tactical retreat’. Undoubtedly, he would never hear the last of this from Hilda- who was practically feeding off the drama but chose to remain in a corner with Marianne.

“Haha, okay. Maybe this is partially my fault. Just… let it be known that teach agreed to the experiment.”

No one seemed impressed. Or amused. Besides Hilda, who looked like a blowfish with her cheeks puffed out so much in an attempt to hold back laughter. Marianne, ever concerned, fretted over her worriedly. 

“Please, come with me Claude.” A few ‘ooooh’s scattered between students at the request from Byleth. They walked out, with the offender peering over his shoulder worriedly in a silent bid for mercy. As soon as the door closed behind the rest of the class, a silence fell. No one knew what to say after that turn of events.

“Well… that was most uncouth of Claude.” Lorenz said, breaking the silence. Everyone shushed him, causing the noble to grunt in annoyance.

“I wonder what the professor will do to him.” Ignatz thought aloud.

“He’ll deserve it. He acts like a child.” Lysithea responded. Hilda was now sat on the floor with tears welling in the corners of here eyes. She couldn’t even bring herself to make an input. 

“Can someone be explaining to me what has just happened? I am fearing that I do not have understanding.”

~~

A short while later, Byleth reentered the room with Claude in tow. Silence resumed before a lien of questioning began against Claude. He refused to admit what his punishment was, though it seemed that no other teachers had been involved. Perhaps the professor had been merciful, but no one knew for sure. The rumours would spiral for weeks.

~~

“Claude, I’m letting you off the hook. I did agree to whatever may happen. Just don’t tell the students, it would not do good for my reputation and it is rather amusing to hear the rumours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oof I hope u enjoyed it- this is the first fanfic I’m posting so don’t be too harsh aha. Feedback is greatly appreciated, even if it’s not much!


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